Worth More Than The World
by Wondering Snow
Summary: Some people say that Bruce Wayne's children are trash, rich snobs and quite a few other things. Bruce Wayne knows how untrue those statements are and how stupid those people are. Because after all, one of the greatest things that happened to him was being able to proudly call himself a 'Dad'. - Oneshot with Bruce and his boys. T to be safe.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. My dream has yet to come true. I apologize in advance for any OOCness. Please enjoy! Special thanks to my beta and friend**

Worth More Than The World

"What a day," Bruce Wayne sighed heavily. It had been a long one, full of paperwork, press conferences, paperwork, complaining customers, complaining employees (honestly, they shouldn't be allowed to, what with the amount of money they were getting paid), and yet even more paperwork. Also, he had had to deal with several truly insufferable women that couldn't seem to leave him alone. Usually Tim would take care of things at Wayne Enterprises but the night before had been unusually taxing for everyone. A new gang was terrorizing Gotham and giving the Bats quite a bit of trouble. They had split up, Bruce solo, Dick with Damian and Tim with Jason, and even with all five Bats working together (they certainly had come a long way) it had taken them much longer than it should have. Nothing they couldn't handle, of course, but for some reason this particular gang was just not getting the message. They wouldn't stay down. Bruce had ordered Tim and the rest of the boys to take the day off and recuperate, and he really hoped that they wouldn't have to deal with them again tonight.

"_It's 'cuz they're Italian," Jason had said. "They're a stubborn bunch. Not as weird as the Canadians though.*" _

Jason. Bruce couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips as he paused filling out some more paperwork (there seemed to be an endless supply). It was different having Jason in the Manor with them again, but it was a change for the better, in Bruce's opinion (even if he'd never say so…at least, not without Nightwing prodding him). He had been surprised when he had learned about the brotherly bond between Jason and Tim, yet gladly so. He didn't doubt that Dick didn't have a hand in Jason agreeing to stay at the Manor for the week, or that Tim and Damian had come somewhat come to a truce of not trying to kill each other. He had _a lot_ to thank Dick for. (There was a distinctly like Alfred voice in his head that he should). As he walked over to his Lamborghini his mind drifted back to the events that had taken place that evening at W.E.

_Earlier that day…_

It wasn't long till the end of the work day when he had received a knock at his office.

"Come in," He answered straightening his tie.

A pretty brown haired young lady opened the door, holding what looked like more paper work (oh for Heaven's sake) and a black folder.

"Mr. Wayne," She smiled nervously at him and walked over to his desk, "Here are the plans for the 'PetTacular Party' and these are the results just came from the Science Lab, I was told to bring them to you."

"Ah yes, thank you." Bruce nodded and took the plans and folder she handed him. Why or how his Board of Directors had come up with an event where people brought their animals to drink tea and talk about politics completely baffled him (and why he even agreed to it was another mystery). But it was an event that would raise money for animals in need, and Bruce was pretty sure that Damian would be happy to hear about that. He set those aside and looked over the contents of the black folder. It was the outlines and schematics for a project that he and Tim had been working on for Batman Incorporated (Paris). He briefly ran his eyes over the outlines, and from what he gathered it looked like it could work. They'd just need to tweak a few things here and there, but other than that…There was a quiet cough and Bruce looked up and realized that the young lady—Rachel, if Bruce remembered correctly—was still there.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Bruce asked politely.

Rachel wrung her hands together and it took her a little while to speak. "There a couple of the ladies at the lounge," Rachel was looking anywhere but at Bruce. "And they were um well, talking about your sons and some of the things they're saying…"Rachel spoke so softly that Bruce had to strain to hear her. And what he heard he did not like. His frown was automatic. _Cougars._

But then, he reasoned, perhaps not. Could just be the usual, snobbish 'what's Brucie (how he hated that name) done now? Adopted another one? Where does he _find_ these urchins?'

Rachel was looking at him nervously and bit her lip. _Probably afraid of what would happen to her if those women find out that she told me, _Bruce thought. He took a deep breath and smiled charmingly at her. "Thank you Rachel," he said, hiding his anger behind a layer of charisma (Rachel could feel her heart melting because really, that man was drop dead _gorgeous_). "I will definitely take care of it very soon." Rachel nodded relieved, and exited the big office. Bruce put the folder in his briefcase, picked up his coat and decided to end his workday a little earlier than planned. He had a lounge to visit. It didn't take him long to arrive there, and he could hear the loud voices from three feet away. He paused at the door, listening on the conversation.

"He's a brat." Bruce heard one of the women say. "They all are. Stuck up rich snobs who think they are the center of the world. All men are the same." _Look in a mirror, lady,_ Bruce thought. _It's not only men who are shallow. _The woman gave a high pitched laugh. "It's as if they think that money makes them great."

"What does Bruce Wayne do? Pick them up off the streets? East End streets, I mean. They're all a bunch of outcasts trying to fit in."

"It's like he _tries _to adopt the poorest, stupidest, _trashiest_ children out there."

"…wretched child who can't even hold his own fork." Another woman, further away, spoke up. Bruce could barely hear the end of her sentence.

"Those children cause so much trouble and don't even seem to care."

That was all Bruce Wayne needed to hear. He turned in the hallway, considering. Should he make a scene, or…?

No. Bruce made up his mind and left quietly. He'd take care of this. None of those women would ever again step foot in any of his buildings.

_Present Time_

Bruce gave a sigh of relief when he walked into the Manor's entrance, glad the day was officially over and he could release all his annoyance during patrol. Alfred greeted him in his usual manner, taking his coat and briefcase for him and letting him know that dinner was in ten minutes. Bruce nodded distractedly, noticing the strange smell and quietness in the house.

"Alfred, where are the boys?" Bruce asked looking around but not spotting anyone.

"Breaking your nice china and dirtying my clean house," Alfred said dryly, yet there was a twinkle in his eye before disappearing into the huge kitchen. Bruce walked into the Grand Living Room and stepped into a war zone. Literally. Barricades had been constructed out of the furniture that should go against any law of gravity, entrances and exits sealed off save the one from the kitchen and the top of the stairs. Signs of 'CAUTION, EXTREME DANGER' (Bruce couldn't help but think how fitting that one was) and 'Danger! High Voltage!' were taped here and there. Bruce didn't even want to know what the rest of the house looked like.

"Mayday! Mayday!" Bruce looked up to see Dick vault over the staircase, flip a few times and land gracefully on his feet. He quickly started running again, heading for cover (which happened to be a cherry wood table). He spoke into a Walkie Talkie and seemed to have what looked like a bullet proof vest and combat boots on. "I've got one on my tail, are you in position?" Not three seconds after he said that a _'pang'_ filled the air and Dick ducked out of the way just in time as a pellet flew past his head, and rolled up to his feet. He and shot back at his attacker, a huge grin on his face.

"Catch me if you caaann~!" Dick teased over his shoulder and took cover behind an overturned couch. His attacker turned out to be Tim, who was also wearing padding and combat boots. He and Dick hadn't spotted their surrogate father yet, too focused on their game. There was a clatter of footsteps to Bruce's right and he turned to see Jason completely decked out with a gun in each hand. He started firing at Tim who quickly ducked behind the railing.

"Damian, now!" Tim yelled and shielded his face. Damian came out of hiding, swinging through the air with the aid of the chandelier (Bruce was sure it was going to fall) and threw down a small black ball. He swung towards Tim, and landed on the stair case next to him all in time before the black ball hit the floor. _Is that a smoke pellet? _Bruce's eyes widened for one second and then he slammed them shut and the ball exploded. It was indeed a smoke pellet and soon the Grand Living Room was covered in a hazy smoke with airsoft bullets flying everywhere, most of them hitting Bruce. There were several sounds of something breaking (and Bruce was pretty sure that that was his nice china).

"Surrender!" Jason shouted.

"Never!" Tim replied.

"Then face the consequences!" Bruce could hear Dick's smile in his voice.

When the smoke finally cleared it revealed four madly grinning (or glaring in Damian's case) boys looking triumphant as though they had just done a huge feat of destroying the Wayne Manor.

"Ahem." Alfred's voice gained everyone's attention. "Dinner is now ready."

"Do you boys know the meaning of 'recuperate'?" Bruce spoke up an almost smile on his face.

"Oh, hey Bruce!" Dick chirped with a wild smile on his face. The other boys finally seemed to notice him and Tim and Damian descended from the stairs. "Don't worry about the mess, we'll clean it up after dinner." Dick said, practically reading his adoptive father's thoughts. "And no one got hurt either." He quickly assured Bruce.

"You mean you and Tim will clean this up," Jason argued turning to Dick. "I didn't do anything except help you because you were getting your sorry butt whipped by two amateurs."

"Right Jay, like you weren't the instigator to begin with," Tim said with a raised eyebrow.

"How was _I_ the instigator?"

"Maybe by proclaiming to Damian and me that you could, 'beat you little twerps in no time.'"

"And just so you know I could have handled myself just fine." Dick cut in waving his Air Soft gun around.

"Tt-you are a fool to think that Grayson. I could have crushed all of you."

Dick just laughed and grabbed Damian into a choke hold and started to ruffle his hair. Damian's protests were completely ignored by Dick, and Jason and Tim were too busy in a heated discussion about who would clean what and who started the entire battle.

"Well it doesn't really matter as Damian and I won," Tim said. _That_ started a whole new debate.

The boys began to argue amongst themselves over who started the fight as they made their way to the Dining Room. Bruce smiled as he walked in after them. Maybe sometimes they were stubborn or difficult to deal with, but Bruce wouldn't change them for the world.

**A/N: First, *I have absolutely nothing against the Italians or Canadians (or anyone else) at all for that matter. It just felt to me like something he would say. If you have a problem take it up with Jason Todd (good luck with that). Second, I wrote this to show that Bruce is not the annoying terrible father that most people make him out to be (I love Bruce!). Third, please leave a review (even a smiley face would be nice :)).**

**Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoyed it!**

**This story was partially inspired by **The Broken Ones **by **Dia Frampton. **I highly suggest checking her song out.**


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